


You’re a Vision to These Eyes

by MinaMauveine



Series: May We Meet Again [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:19:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinaMauveine/pseuds/MinaMauveine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wakes in a soft bed and a kiss to the crown of her head. It’s their anniversary and they’ve both taken the day off. There’ll be breakfast in bed and she’ll get to hear ‘I loves you’s against her skin and see it gleaming in Alexandria’s eyes. </p><p>Or</p><p>Clarke and Lexa have moments of peace.<br/>Safe in a world of their own.</p><p>Or</p><p>The aftermaths of the Season Three Finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clarke is safe and warm, spooned against Lexa’s back. She presses ever closer, tugging at the woman in her arms to come deeper into her embrace.

 

“Clarke.” Lexa’s voice is throaty, she’s barely awake but a smile tilts her words. “You’re overheating me.”

 

“I’m cold.”

 

“You jet packing onto me doesn’t make you any less cold; you’re just an ice wraith when you sleep.” Lexa pushes the sheets from her front, patting a consoling hand on the arm Clarke secures around her waist.

 

Clarke hmmphs and snuggles below the covers on her side, and when Lexa tries to detangle from Clarke’s hold she starts just heaving the other woman over her cold back as a makeshift blanket.

 

“You’re freezing!” Lexa laughs as she pushes off the mattress, refusing to have her front apply directly onto Clarke’s chilled back.

 

“I knooooow,” Clarke groans into a pillow, hands swatting back to grab at Lexa, trying to coax her back, “c’mere.”

 

Lexa laughs again; she smooths her warm hands up along Clarke’s spine, over her shoulders and the back of her arms. Lexa shifts to straddles Clarke’s hips; she ends her caress by tugging at Clarke’s hands and holds the other woman’s arms above their heads. She laces their fingers together to deter Clarke from grabbing for her again.

 

There’s a pause.

 

“You’re not going to stop there are you?” Clarke looks over her shoulder, grin on her lips, she arches off the bed a bit, pressing into the space between Lexa’s legs.

 

Lexa gasps, gets jostled forward and pouts against the back of Clarke’s nape. “I made plans for our anniversary.”

 

“It’s _our_ anniversary, I have plans too.” Clarke struggles until Lexa releases her hold, letting Clarke turn onto her back to leer up at her wife. “They mostly include you and me, in bed, more naked though.”

 

“I suppose I could concede to a lazier morning than I had intended for us.” Lexa watches, eyes hooded as Clarke’s reaches for the top of her boxer shorts, pulling at the material until she is caressing the sharp angle of Lexa’s hipbone.

 

Clarke slips her hand lower, tangles her digits through the curls between Lexa’s legs before collecting moisture along her index finger. “You ‘ _suppose_ ’ you could concede my ass, you’re dripping.”

 

Lexa looks away, out their window and faces the sunrise with a blush.

 

“I’m not going to move a muscle until you admit you would like it as much as me to blow off our morning plans if it meant having us between the sheets.” Clarke lets her other hand settle on Lexa’s firm butt, squeezing her fingers along the muscles that always draws a moan.

 

“Fuck.” Lexa buckles a bit, hips thrusting forward to encourage Clarke’s touch.

 

Lexa doesn’t verbally admit to wanting a lazy morning but does reach one hand to wrap around Clarke’s, pushing for more contact as she slowly grinds for pressure.

 

Clarke tugs her hand free and almost giggles at the exaggerated aggravation on her lover’s face. A ‘how dare you’ if she’s ever seen such an expression.  She’s quick to make amends, tugging Lexa’s boxers off before laying back and quirking her brow. “Maybe I want you to ride something other than my hand?”

 

Lexa smirks, leans forward to press a kiss against Clarke’s forehead before moving to kick off her boxers. “You sure?”

 

“My face is your throne.”

 

“That’s incredibly lewd.”

 

Lexa finds it within herself to allow Clarke to pull her down against eager lips and warm tongue.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Clarke likes to be held by Lexa. They are about the same size and fit so well together she never wants to leave. But while the spirit is willing the body is weak and her stomach grumbles thrice until Lexa pulls away from their kiss.

 

“Come back, stay in bed.”

 

Lexa stays, looks into Clarke’s eyes with such boundless affection and love that her heart quickens.

 

The moment is interrupted once again when Clarke’s stomach rumbles again and makes her wife laugh. “When I meant plans I had meant me going to make us breakfast to eat in bed.”

 

“Okay, you can still do that.”

 

“You’ll have to let me go to prepare your food for your highness.”

 

“I still want the food and I want to hold onto you too.” Clarke tightens her arms and squeezes. “Last I checked you had the best seat in the house.”

 

Lexa rolls her eyes and opens their bedside drawer, pulling out a protein bar to toss to Clarke. “If you won’t let me go make our food then you’ll have to settle for this.”

 

Clarke squints at the gibberish on the wrapper, Lexa gets boxes of this stuff from another country and while Clarke could have pieced out the nutritional values she can’t make out the name or even why the advertising team decided to cover the entire package with 1’s and 0’s. “What’s with the futuristic design, is it some nerdy Matrix inspired campaign?”

 

“You can’t make fun of my snacks and eat them as well.” Lexa snatches the bar back and shoves it into the drawer. “I’m going to make us breakfast.”

 

Before Clarke and squeeze her arms again Lexa is mercilessly tickling her sides until she curls away into the blankets laughing with tears in her eyes. “That’s cheating!”

 

“You were holding me captive.”

 

Clarke pokes her head up from the fortress of blankets, comforter and pillows and sticks her tongue out at Lexa before ducking back under when Lexa feigns coming back for another round of tickles.

 

Clarke hears footsteps heading into the kitchen and yells out, “when I said best seat in the house I meant my face!”

 

“You haven’t even been on mine.” Lexa calls back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The song playing is HONNE - Warm On A Cold Night

The sunrise that had painted their skies in pinks and oranges are soon covered by fluffy clouds. There’s a drizzling that starts and stops but they still decide against the beach. They can walk along the shores another time when the weather permits it.

 

It’s not the places they go on their anniversary but the time they get to spend together. They both have incredibly busy jobs. Lexa co-owns a martial arts gym that started up just at the right time. A health craze had swept the city several years back when they had been the only place available to supply a very particular demand. Clarke hasn’t really said it out loud but Lexa knows her wife prefers her being within half an hour distance instead of being deployed across the Earth to participate in a war they don’t discuss.

 

Clarke works in the same hospital her mother does and it’s at times head achingly difficult. They don’t always agree on many things from handling patients to medical procedures. Her mother can be overly critical on her life choices; the biggest factor of discord between them being Clarke’s love life. Her mother hadn’t been the biggest supporter when they had first gotten together. She had worried Clarke would’ve been distracted, lost her focus on the big picture. Yet Lexa had given her the extra strength to survive those inhuman hours and stressful finals. Had let her sketch out muscle configuration and written Latin over tanned skin. Once Clarke had used permanent marker and Lexa had been forced to teach her class with the names of ligaments and bones over every joint.

 

Clarke looks up from her drawing, the scenario below so crisp and metallic but she doesn’t have the right shades. She recreates the city of Annapolis with tones of an ambitious nature. The shining skyscrapers rust and become shrouded by leaves and bark. The pristine roads and sidewalks are cracked by spreading vines and overgrowing flora on her canvas portrayal.

 

They had chosen to curl along the window seat overlooking busy downtown. Lexa reads while Clarke creates with pastels and charcoal. She takes a break and sips from her cup of cocoa and lets the heat seep into the palms of her hands. The rain isn’t that heavy but people seem to be keeping indoors.

 

“It’s quiet.”

 

“Are you happy?” Lexa looks away from the last pages of her novel, attention completely on Clarke as she reaches out to place her hand on Clarke’s knee.

 

Clarke takes another sip from her drink, smirking as she takes her wife’s hands into hers. “You goof, of course I’m happy, I’m with you, the quiet is nice.”

 

“It is.” Lexa relaxes, leaning back and using her free hand to thumb her novel back to her spot.

 

“What are you reading?” Clarke almost reaches for the book but her hands are smudged with colour. “Are you learning a new language?”

 

Lexa slides a book mark into place, closes her book and props it facing out against the window glass. “Yes, it’s not used much anymore.”

 

Clarke can’t decipher what was written on the book but finds the back of the hard cover once again streaming with 1’s and 0’s motif. “You got a running theme today huh?”

 

“It’s by the same company.” Lexa runs her thumb over Clarke’s knuckles, works the muscles and infuses warmth. “Will you be amendable to dinner out tonight or shall we stay in?”

 

“Don’t know, why don’t we play it by ear, what do you want to do?”

 

Lexa brings Clarke’s hand up and holds a kiss against the back of her hand. The only place without colour from her tools. “Whatever you want to do.”

 

Clarke is quite charmed by Lexa’s chivalrous display and puts down her drink and tugs at their joined hands. “I wanna dance right now.”

 

Lexa stands, letting Clarke guide them into a slow sway. “Would you like some music to accompany us?”

 

“I think we can manage.” Clarke leans closer, tucks her forehead against Lexa’s neck. They sway for a couple moments. “Don’t you like the quiet?”

 

“I’ve never gotten to enjoy it.” Lexa presses a kiss against Clarke’s temple.

 

“Well now you do.” Clarke says firmly, holding just a bit tighter. She recalls a time when the rain chilled through their clothes; when they were young and sneaking around, secret meetings in the darkness.

 

The stereo beeps on, letting a song fill their condo.

 

“And now we even have music.” Lexa pulls away, her smile soft and always too lovely a sight.

 

Clarke leans into it, takes Lexa’s mouth against her own. Feels those plush lips return her light touch with a passion that makes her heart ache.    


Lexa lets her hands slide down along Clarke’s back and with a tug pulls the woman into her arms.

 

Clarke squeaks and wraps her legs tight around Lexa’s waist. They don’t stop kissing until they wound up back in their bedroom.

 

Lexa takes lead this time, asking Clarke to refrain from tainted the white sheets she had chosen for their bed.

 

The radio cackles and pop but neither can hear it behind their closed door.


	3. Chapter 3

Evening settles down outside their home and nestles deep in the streets below. The drizzly afternoon turns darker by the second as the sun leaves. The moonless night is kept bright by the numerous neighbouring apartments, flickering warmth and light shines from busy living rooms. Clarke wants to cherish each instance, wants to capture this scene on paper but she’ll have to do it tomorrow since tonight they are still heading out. The wind is a little more bitter and the rain is coming down in heavy sheets. Lexa swears they are within walking distance to the ‘secret’ venue but they call up an Uber anyways.

 

Clarke is doing finishing touches to her makeup but insists on seeing what Lexa had put on before they leave since she can’t really gauge if she should be shooting for fancy, swanky or a crazy night.

 

Lexa is sitting by the windowsill again, legs cross and fingers absentmindedly stroking the bindings of the book. She has hardly any make up on, just eye liner and blush to make her cheekbones pop. Her lips are bright matte rouge, Clarke sees perfection and muse but all she wants is to kiss those lips free of colour.

 

“I’m over done.”

 

Lexa looks up. “Nonsense, you look lovely.”

 

“I have eyeshadow on, is this a strictly no eyeshadow place cause you’re looking fancy while I’m obviously at a med-student-weekend-binge level.”

 

“We could tell the Uber to take us to that dive bar; it _was_ where we actually got together.”

 

“ArkDC is overrated.” Lexa looks momentarily worried so Clarke adds. “But it is _our_ spot.”

 

“If you would just tell me where you wanted to go instead of us playing this back and fourth I wouldn’t guess wrong.” Lexa tilts her head slightly. “Am I going to get into a verbal trap and have to dole out sexual favours to get back into your good graces?”

 

“Oh I’m getting some tonight no matter what, a little bird told me.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes,” Clarke should leave it at that but she calls out the first fowl she can think of, “a Raven.”

 

There’s another pause, the stereo jumps to life but there’s only heavy static. Lexa gets up and unplugs the device altogether.

 

“We should really invest in replacing that thing, how long have we had it?”

 

“Not that long, they just don’t make things like they used to.” Lexa answers.

 

“Sweetheart, don’t make us sound so ancient please.”

 

“Well if we are going to our dive then I think I’ll need your help with my makeup,” Lexa waves her hand vaguely to her eyes, “we can be _that_ couple who has matching eyeshadow.”

 

“I was hoping you’ll give me permission.” Clarke holds up the makeup pallet she had been hiding behind her back and Lexa laughs, not minding getting conned into being Clarke’s human canvas once again.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

“Hold still.” Clarke requests as she repositions herself for the second time in the last minute.

 

“I am.” Lexa confirms, she’s situated on their living room couch and Clarke is pretty much on her lap. “I don’t think this is a very professional job.”

 

“Oh really?” Clarke quips back, corner of her lip pulled between her teeth in concentration.

 

“Yes.” Lexa grabs onto Clarke’s hips before her wife can move away. “I didn’t say go.”

 

“Uh huh.” Clarke does one final flick with her brush and then backs away from her handiwork. “Perfect!”

 

“So I can open my eyes now.”

 

“Yeap.”

 

Lexa’s eye colour has always been rather mercurial, changing under the light from jade to grey. Though the ardent devotion in them never changes when they are focused on Clarke and Clarke can’t help wondering how she’s ever gotten this lucky.

 

“Man, I have the prettiest wife, you’re gorgeous you know that?” Clarke cradles Lexa’s face in her palm; she had meant it in a jovial fashion, as a tease but her hands are shaking.

 

Lexa doesn’t look away just returns Clarke’s attention with a smile and fervent adoration in her gaze. Clarke can’t help it, the wave of relief in being this close to Lexa. To see her love again, to touch to run her trembling fingers over parted lips and tentative smile. She lets her eyes roam over every feature of Lexa’s face, locks these details into her memory. She’ll sketch out each angle and line and it’ll never be enough, never recreate what she has now.

 

Clarke is blinking against tears when she embraces Lexa. Digs her hands into the material of Lexa’s clothing, feels the beat of a steady heart under the pads of her fingertips. She wants to drown in the other woman’s hold. Lexa grasps on just as tight, takes all of Clarke’s anguish and holds them against their insurmountable reality.

 

Of their families and their lives. Of the people they’ve met and lost. Of this thing called surviving.

 

“Lexa…”

 

Clarke tries to soothe her sudden anguish. The extreme fluctuations in her mood aren’t as bad as they were when Lexa was still in the army. Lexa doesn’t have to leave their home and fight in the war. Clarke won’t wake up alone in their bed. They won’t have months of solitude between their meetings. Lexa will be here tomorrow and the days afterwards.

 

They’ll be together.

 

“Our night is not over.”

 

“No, no it isn’t.” Clarke feels a vibration shoot up near her abdomen but when she straightens nothing hinders her movement. “Oh ha, it’s my cellphone, the Uber is here.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, I like your tattoo.”

 

Clarke watches the woman driving the car flick her eyes up to the rear view mirror, a graceful smile on bright lips and pony tail swaying when she quickly turns to give a thank you.

 

An infinity symbol lies inked in the back of the brunette’s neck. It’s minimalistic and shape looks almost aged but Clarke likes it all the same.

 

“Are you two having a good night?”

 

Lexa turns to face Clarke and smiles when she sees the easy calm in her wife’s expression. “It’s always perfect when I’m with her.”

 

“Gah,” Clarke gives Lexa’s shoulder a shove but then joins their hands, “I love you too you dork.”

 

Clarke is blushing, glad the road is rather dim and uncrowded with other cars tonight or they’ll see her all flustered and 17 years old again around Lexa’s charm.  

 

“We’re here.”

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

ArkDC is decorated in a menagerie of genres, every piece of the establishment designed to mimic a different era. Everything blends seamlessly together, making the cozy space expand with favour instead of feeling overcrowded.

 

The bouncer had been a silent fella, rolling his wrist to indicate needing the patrons to turn around and allow a stamp to the back of their necks before being permitted in.

 

The music is jazzy but Clarke knows it can jump and switch, ranging from the sixties then leaping into the todays top forties before settling in between and repeating the cycle again. There’s a projector set up facing the far wall that shows the album cover of each song playing so partiers would stop asking the employees for band and song names.

 

This place had been a perfect little hole in the wall after Clarke’s semester finals and it was here that she bumped into her childhood crush. Lexa had looked striking under the golden bar lights. Hair bound up in elaborate braids and clothed in a leather jacket and tight dark jeans. Lexa was celebrating with her friends after her first deployment and had spilt her flagon of beer all over herself when Clarke had gone to greet her with a whisper and a kiss along a slender neck.

 

“Do you remember when we bumped into each other?” Clarke asks expression coy. “How what’s his name kept hitting on me until you growled at him to ‘stand down’.”

 

“I don’t growl and if I recall you told him you weren’t interested twice before I sent him off for being overly forward.” Lexa muses as they lounge in a particularly plush velvet chair. “I could have hurt you that night if I didn’t have such fine control on my reflexes.”

 

“Oh you,” Clarke pats Lexa’s knee, “the killing machine clad in a beer barley soaked through white tank.”

 

“It was a strategic move.” Lexa affirms, taking Clarke’s left hand into her own, there’s no clink of wedding bands since they had chosen a circling tattoo of each other’s names around their ring finger. “I knew you liked my abs.”

 

“I did choose your soaking ass over Bellamy’s boyish smirk.” Clarke moves to steal a kiss. “You’re right, you were deadly.”

 

The music shifts, hopping into an upbeat pop song that has Clarke grinning and Lexa dropping her head onto the back of her seat with a groan. Lexa reaches out without having to look, knows that Clarke will want them to dance to this. She lets Clarke drag her into the middle of the dive and willing allows Clarke to lead them in a rather chaotic number, moving around one another like they were fresh from their first meeting and high off possibilities.

 

Lexa grins all the more when she wraps her arms from behind Clarke, makes them slow to the switching genre. The music is just instrumental and the dance floor is emptying with just the pair of them.

 

“It’s nicer to hold you when my front isn’t covered in beer.”

 

“You ruined my dress that night.”

 

“Wasn’t it worth it?”

 

“Yes you dork; you are worth anything, happy anniversary.” Clarke turns her cheek into the kiss she’s given and finds herself content. They stay against one another for a period, the song matching their mood instead of spastically flittering through differing beats. “Do you remember how many years?”

 

“Mmmhmm.” Lexa tightens her hold, nuzzles a kiss just behind Clarke’s ear. “Can I get you a drink?”

 

“Lexa, you’re supposed to actually mention our year instead of distracting me.” Clarke lets Lexa bring them up to the bar, calls up dark blend for herself and then a white Russian for Clarke.

 

After an expert display, the bartender places their drinks over black and green coasters striped by a 1’s and 0’s design and slides it over to them.

 

“Hey don’t I know you?” Clarke holds the glass against her chest, feels the condensation cool against her heated skin.

 

The bartender shrugs, her eyes seem knowing but her bright lips stay silent.

 

“Are you having a good time?” Lexa places her hand on Clarke’s elbow.

 

“Huh, yeah.” Clarke looks momentarily away and when she turns she finds the woman serving at the other side of the long bar, speaking with another patron. “Didn’t she look familiar to you?”

 

“My eyes were on you.”

 

Clarkes laughs, puts her drink down and pulls Lexa into another kiss. It tastes like vodka, beer and the bitter sweetness of coffee liqueur. She can’t get enough of those lips; to the feel of a similar smile against her own mouth. Of hearing Lexa’s voice saying such inanely sweet and silly things. To falling in love with all these little moments she can have with her wife for the rest of their lives.

 

“Take me home.”

 

The dive plays them a farewell song and the projector shows a black bird caught up in orange-red yarn.


	5. Chapter 5

The weather is abysmal by the time they leave ArkDC. The rain coming down even harder than before and the darkness seemingly impenetrable but their hands are joined and they move through the unyielding night without fear. Neither bemoans the fact that they are getting soaked; both eager to return home to rid themselves of an audience and clothes.

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

The night guard buzzes them in when she sees them struggling to make out with one another and also retrieve their keys. The glass door clicks open and they spill into the marble lobby. They are dripping and cold, their heels echoing on the stone floors as they try to scurry away from the bright smirking lips of their building’s security guard.

 

Lexa tries to be poise when they wait for their elevator but when Clarke shivers; she immediately pulls her wife into her arms. Clarke turns into the hold and the next thing they know is the ding of the elevator door closing and having to click for the next one.

 

They barely manage to kick their front door close; it slams shut but bounces back open ajar. Jackets are shrugged off between heated kisses, shoes barely unbuckled before they are shaken to the floor. They stumble onto their couch, absolutely soaking the material.

 

Lexa can normally take charge or be docile to Clarke’s whims but today she’s all push and take and wanting. She’s shredding at Clarke’s dress just to get to the body beneath. To press searing kisses against weather cooled skin. Lexa is rekindling a fire in Clarke’s soul with every touch; warding off the darkness of their apartment with the flame between them.

 

They inevitably loose balance but Lexa twists mid fall so she’s on her back first and Clarke lands on top of her. Clarke’s worried she’s injured her lover but hands are already skimming around her ass to drag down her thong.

 

“We’ll get you more.” Lexa explains before taking the thin strings on either side of Clarke’s hip into her hands and yanking the undergarment clean in two.

 

Lexa tosses the panties aside then glares challengingly up at Clarke and Clarke has never been one to disappoint. She wastes no time with the buttons on Lexa’s shirt, jerking open the top and grinning when she hears the buttons splatter onto the ground like pebbles. She dives forward, mouths the hard nipple through the rain damp material of Lexa’s bra, bites when Lexa’s hands curl around the back of her head. Lexa is keening, arching from their wooden floors and pressing up into Clarke’s hungry mouth. Her hands scratch down Clarke’s back, lands on her ass and palms at the pale skin, reddening it from something other than the chill.

 

“Clarke, please let me touch you first.” Lexa’s voice is throaty, low, as she drags Clarke up to meet her hungry lips. “Please.”

 

Clarke let’s Lexa roll them over.

 

Lexa delivers tight yearning kisses, stealing the air from Clarke’s lungs with the force of the storm outside but her calloused hands remain tender. The kiss drives every thought from Clarke’s mind, makes her crave and want so desperately for more. She’s lost in the sensation of them being together, breaking and building, coming apart together at the seams.

 

Lexa trails bites down the length of Clarke’s necks, possessively paves Clarke’s skin anew, marking everything with wild desire.

 

When Lexa pulls away to rid herself of her pants and underwear, Clarke watches with hooded eyes, her breath in gasps from kissed bruised lips. Lexa lets her knuckles run along Clarke’s jaw, presses a lighter kiss on plump lips as if asking for pardon before they reach for one another again and Lexa pushes unto the remains of Clarke’s dress, holds her lover captive as she completes her path downward. Lexa’s movements are fueled by ceaseless need, worships with lips and touch but there’s melancholic note beneath it all. 

 

A blaze starts wherever Lexa touches and the passion only flickers stronger, enticing Clarke to automatically slide open her legs when Lexa situates herself between them. There’s little preamble before tongue and teeth take to Clarke’s clit. The sudden assault makes her squeak and wrap her thighs around Lexa’s ears. Her wife doesn’t slow though, hands soothe up and down Clarke’s legs, coaxes for space until a hand can stroke along with tongue. Lexa pushes one finger in before two then three and Clarke cries as she bucks up against the determined attention.

 

Lexa lets the pace relax, pumps her fingers out slower, lessening the rhythm until she can properly wrap teeth around Clarke’s clit again. When she has firm hold she nibbles and sucks, pressing the pads of her fingers up even as Clarke tightens and clamps down around her. Lexa quickens from before, keeps it up even when Clarke is squirming and thrashing, doesn’t stop until Clarke is gushing down her chin and dripping enough to collect in her palm.

 

Clarke’s a trembling bundle of nerves, she’s dizzy when Lexa moves aside so she curls into herself sore, relax but somehow still wound up too tight. She sighs in relief when Lexa picks her up, takes them to their bedroom and settles them beneath their downy covers.

 

“I think I’m too old for floorboard sex now.” Clarke tiredly jokes as she cuddles into Lexa’s hug; she’s yawning and all but asleep.

 

“I think you are magnificent, hey come back to me.” Lexa shares a taste of Clarke’s excitement with a lingering kiss; she holds her love close, stroking her fingers along the curve of Clarke’s jaw until she has blue eyes reflecting her concern.

 

The rain has drenched them through, their hairs a mess and made their eyeshadow runs and taints outside careful lines. Clarke makes to fix the smudging of Lexa’s smoky eyes but her hands move on their own accord, taking the freshly freed colour and smearing it further down Lexa’s solemn expression. She drags the black down until they are long tendrils along Lexa’s cheek and the cold seeps back into Clarke’s pores.

 

 

 

It comes in flashes and Clarke can’t fight it, not when she’s gaining lucidity.

 

She’s in the City of Lights.

 

They reunite on the stairs among the dead.

 

Her euphoria turns to anguish.

 

Lexa is lost once again for the salvation of the world.

 

In self-preservation Clarke’s mind awakens safe in this world of their own.

 

“It’s time.” There’s finality in Lexa’s voice as age drains from her visage, the years leave her until she’s barely an adult; till she’s the lost love of Clarke’s young life and their history has always been a bloodier one. “Ai hod yu in, Klark Kom Skaikru and I’ll always be with you.”

 

Clarke finds herself mute and doesn’t dare look away, can’t bare turning from the vision of Lexa before her.

 

But a deafening crackle comes from the unpowered radio in their living room, a cacophony of voices torrent through the static, calling for her to awaken.

 

Their bedroom door melts under a stream of 1’s and 0’s, transforms into a vault entrance with the symbol of a raven splashed triumphantly over the circular metal.

 

Clarke finds there’s no rest for the wicked.


	6. Chapter 6

Just a heads up that there's a sequel to this ficlet, I was going to mention that when I posted the second part but I completely forgot to >_>

**Author's Note:**

> [Buy Me a Coffee?](https://ko-fi.com/A1464VTG)
> 
> Come find me on tumblr ;3c
> 
> minarobins.tumblr.com


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